


and if you get to heaven (i'll be here waiting)

by RhymeReason



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Grieving, Mentions of Character Death, Recovery, graveyards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 14:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17367806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhymeReason/pseuds/RhymeReason
Summary: May’s eyes zoned out, looking beyond him. Peter thought that if he extended his senses he might be able to hear her heart beating off rhythm, just like his.





	and if you get to heaven (i'll be here waiting)

**Author's Note:**

> this fic has been in my drafts for forever, just waiting to be edited so I decided to edit it and post it tonight just bc I wanted to post something!  
> enjoy ya'll  
> (ps this is also part of a series ive been working on that im really hoping to get to posting soon but it doesnt have any effect on it so like? keep a watch out for that)

The anniversary snuck up on them.

Peter had been so busy with Spider-Man and May with trying to deal with the fact that her son was a superhero that they didn’t even realize that the anniversary was upon them until the night before. 

The one year anniversary of Ben’s death. 

Peter was the one who noticed the date at dinner that night as he was looking at his phone. It blinked at him and Peter felt his stomach drop into the ground. He immediately felt a headache come on, as if his body was physically remembering what it felt like to grieve. As if it was remembering the days and weeks after, where all he wanted to do was burrow under his blankets and never emerge.

Those days were hard, but the months after that were harder. When he finally went back to school and Ned would give him these sad looks when he thought Peter couldn’t see. When he would come back home and stare at his homework because he didn't understand it and suddenly didn’t have Uncle Ben to explain it. When he would be out patrolling and saw a mugger and suddenly couldn’t breathe quite right. When he would lie awake at night and hear May wake up from a nightmare and cry herself to sleep because her husband was gone. It was the days upon days where Peter couldn't bring himself to cry, no matter how much he wanted to. 

The days where the only thing Peter could feel were anger.

The days where he and May wouldn’t talk because there wasn’t anything they could say.

All of this washed over Peter in an instant and he couldn’t stand to look at his food anymore. He pushed his plate away.

“Peter?” May’s voice wafted over to him.She had noticed. May always noticed. “Are you okay? I know it isn't super great but it's not the worst thing I've ever made. Remember that one time where we-”

“It's tomorrow.” His voice sounded like thin glass, as if it would shatter if anyone sang any note above a high-C. He felt pretty much the same.

“What is, Peter?” May looked even more concerned. Her brow was pinched in the middle, the way it only got when she was really worried.

“The anniversary.”

“Oh.” May’s eyes zoned out , looking beyond him. Peter thought that if he extended his senses he might be able to hear her heart beating off rhythm, just like his.

“I..hadn’t realized how close it was.” She whispered.

“Me neither.”

“I...don’t think I'm going to go into work tomorrow.”

“Should I...go to school?”

“Do you want to?” Her eyes finally zeroed back in on him. He couldn’t tell whether or not he liked it.

“No.”

“I’ll call you out then.” She stood up from the table and took her plate over to the sink. “I'm not hungry anymore.”

“Okay.” Peter grabbed his plate and put it in the sink next to May’s. He turned to her. “Should we visit the graveyard?”

“Do you want to?”

“I guess so.” 

May shrugged. “Then let’s go.”

“Do you want to go?” Peter turned to look at her. Her mouth as a thin line and she still had the furrow in her brow. 

“I don't know, Peter.” She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “I just...don’t want to think about anything at all right now.”

“I get that.” He clenched his fist and the fork he had been holding in his hand crumpled. He stared down at it, letting it clatter into the sink.

“Peter.” He looked up at May’s voice. She was looking at him with sad eyes. He saw his pain reflected in her eyes and a distant part of him screamed  _ May’s eyes should never look like that.  _

She carded a hand through his hair and pulled him close to her. He hugged her as tightly as he could without hurting her. That thought dug into his brain and for a brief moment he wished he didn’t have these powers, if only so he could hug his Aunt as tightly as he wanted to. He rested his head on her shoulder and tried to ignore the tears that were pooling in his eyes and the feeling of May’s tear drops falling on his skin.

They stood like that for a long time.

  
  
  


Peter didn't go on patrol that night and didn't go to school the next day. He turned his phone off after he texted Ned that he wouldn't be at school and kept it off for most of the day. He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Neither him or May left their rooms until well into the afternoon, when they both sat at the kitchen table and ate toast in silence. It felt wrong and right, all at the same time. They were in a harsh limbo state and it reminded Peter of everything he hated about grief.

Eventually, they got dressed and road the subway to the cemetery that held Ben. May grabbed his hand as they entered the park and didn’t let it go as they approached the grave.

Neither of them spoke as they sat down in front of the grave. They just held hands and looked at it in silence.

A long time passed before May broke the silence. 

“He would be so proud of you, Peter.”

“Why?” 

“Because you’re you, Peter” She turned to look at him. “Why wouldn’t he be proud of you?”

“I'm the reason he’s dead.” Peter’s voice was a whisper. He had never told this to May before and he didn't know why he was saying it now. “He wouldn’t have been out that night if it wasn’t for me. ”

“Peter-”

“I had gone out that night, remember? I wanted to be Spider-Man, in my shitty little tracksuit and webshooters I made out of scraps. He figured me out and came and got me. He chewed me out and started to take me home and then we got ambushed and-” 

“Peter-”

“And it's all my fault, May.” A sob he wasn’t expecting wracked Peter’s body. “I'm so sorry May, I'm so sorry.”

“Oh Peter.” May pulled Peter to her chest and let him sob. She rubbed circles on his back and held him tight, just like how she did when he was small. 

“I'm so, sorry, May.” He said in between sobs. “I didn’t save him, I couldn’t save him, it's all my fault, I'm-”

“Peter Benjamin Parker, stop it right now.” There was steel in her tone and she pulled him up by his shoulders. She looked him in the eyes and wouldn’t let him advert his gaze. “I need you to listen to me. He would not blame you, Peter. I don't either.”

“But May-”

“Peter, let me talk.” She cut him off. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were fourteen, Peter. No one would have asked you to save him, least of all Ben. You were and are a _ child _ , despite everything. You have seen so much and experienced so much more than you should have, but you are still a boy, Peter. And don't you dare think that Ben wouldn’t be proud of you

“He would be so proud of you, just like I am. So so proud. Peter, you save lives every day, all while still being in highschool and still being yourself. And even if you weren't Spider-Man, out there saving lives, Ben would be proud of you because it's you. Peter. Even when you messed up, Ben always looked at you like you had hung the moon and strung up the stars. You were his everything. You're my everything. Please, don't forget that, Peter. Ever.”

All Peter could do was bury his face in May’s shoulder and tell her how much he loved her as he sobbed.

It was a long time before the sobs stopped and Peter finally pulled away. He was tired and worn out, but was surprisingly feeling a little bit better. May smiled at him even though she had matching tear tracks on her face. He went to wipe her face at the same time that she went to wipe his and for some reason, it made them both laugh. 

Their little chuckles grew from there until they were both laughing for no reason. It felt good. And even though there wasn’t a third laugh to finish their chord, they could both hear it like an overtone in a song. 

They laughed for a long time, until their sides hurt and they started to get weird looks from people walking by. May stood and held a hand out to pull Peter up with her. He took it gladly.

“Ya know what, Peter?” She asked as they walked out together, her arm thrown around his shoulder. 

“What?”

“Fuck grieving.” She smiled at him and ruffled his hair. “I think we’ve done enough of that. Let's start remembering him, instead. Lets go get some of that really shitty mediterranean food from that dive down the street that he loved and then go home and watch all of his favorite movies, just to make fun of them. Sound good?”

“Yeah, May.” Peter smiled. “That sounds perfect.” 

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment if you recognize where the title is from!  
> also, find me on tumblr @kentuckyfriedbooks


End file.
